


Undone

by RhineGold



Category: Stargate Universe
Genre: Alpha Young, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, Omega Rush, Unexpected Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29714373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RhineGold/pseuds/RhineGold
Summary: After experiencing heat-death at the passing of his Alpha, Rush suddenly has a fresh heat for the first time in years. Young offers to step up to the plate, but nobody is really on board with that plan. At first.
Relationships: Nicholas Rush/Everett Young
Comments: 10
Kudos: 12





	Undone

**Author's Note:**

> So uh.... I really like A/B/O fic and I wanted to write some Rush/Young fic and this... happened. I'm actually pleased with the dialogue and flow of this story, even if it's dirty omegaverse and not even the good parts. Sorry, everyone. (Hides in shame under a rock).

The first time it happens, Rush barely thinks anything of it. He catches the scent like a ghost as he is toweling dry his hair. Bent slightly at the waist, both arms in the air, he notices there is a certain sweetness in the air, something that speaks of comforts long dead and gone. He thinks of Gloria suddenly and that familiar clenching of the heart overwhelms anything he might have thought about the smell itself. It is barely worth registering and he will not even remember it until much later.

As the day progresses, he notices a few looks in the halls, at the mess, and he scowls to himself, wondering if they are surprised he's bothered with basic hygiene after some time without. (Once upon a time, he showered every morning, but here, there is something wild and always attention-seeking that manages to make him forget such formalities. He's not the only one - most of the crew goes several days without showering or washing their clothes. But his beard makes him more suspect, he assumes, so everyone seems to think of him as dirtier and less seemly). 

It isn't until the next day that Becker leans in closer when handing him a bowl of foodstuffs. He can hear the man inhale, but again, thinks little of it. There is work to be done.

Hours later, he cannot stop running his hands through his hair and when Greer passes him in the hallway, everything grinds to a distressing halt. The Master Sergeant pauses, one step past Rush, making him pause as well. They stand, nearly back-to-back for one long moment, and then he is being grabbed and spun neatly into the wall. 

Rush's back hits the curved metal planking and Greer's face dips down to his own and it is only when he realizes that the man's face is hovering directly over his scent glands that the truth of the matter slams into him. Rush panics, shoving the other man viciously, knocking him off-balance momentarily and he breaks into a run. The Infirmary is not far and he races there with a sense of terror causing him to break into a light sweat. The worst possible addition to his dilemma. 

To his horror, the room is not empty - Colonel Young is perched on the edge of one of the tables, chatting amiably with TJ, who is seated at her desk, files opened but unstudied in front of her. The gentle sort of flirting is in sharp counterpoint to Rush's dishevelment and obvious distress. 

"Dr. Rush?" TJ is asking and he opens his mouth to answer but is interrupted by Young's sudden, jerking rise. 

"Good God, Rush," Young snaps, and there is a kind of stunned shock in his voice.

He is sweating more heavily now and the sweet, silky scent is rising between the three of them. Alpha, Beta, ...and Omega.

~*~

"Why didn't you tell anyone about this?" Young still sounds sharp, accusatory, as he hovers uselessly nearby.

TJ finishes with the blood pressure cuff and raises her penlight to check his eye dilation, buying him a moment to compose a response. 

"My wife..." He begins finally. "She passed away and..."

"You experienced heat-death after the passing of your Alpha," TJ murmured helpfully.

"Yes, precisely. I haven't... in years, so why...?" 

"How often did you experience your cycle while your wife was still living?"

"...Every... six months or so?" He says, distracted by the way Young is stepping closer to the pair of them.

TJ pauses for a moment, pursing her lips. "It's been roughly six months since you were abducted by the Nakai," She offers. "Maybe there was something in their experiments that... that kick-started certain... elements in your bodily functions."

"But that's not possible is it?" Young asks, letting one hand drift down as though to rest it upon Rush's shoulder. The smaller man jerks away, causing his stool to rake sharply across the floor. Young looks at his hand as though he hadn't even noticed what he'd been doing and crosses his arms to his chest. To TJ, he continues, "Once an Omega experiences heat-death, they never resume having them, correct?"

TJ sighs and palms a hand over her face. "It's extremely rare, but it's not unheard of, even without... aliens and God-knows-what." 

"What am I supposed to do about this?" Rush snaps, combing his hands through his hair and then lowering one to grip at his left shoulder. 

"We'll have to keep you isolated from the rest of the crew until the heat passes," TJ says, trying to make her voice a soothing counterpoint to the obvious distress in Rush's. 

"That still only solves half my problem," He replies more quietly.

"I know that."

"I'll do it," Young says quickly, redirecting their attentions onto him.

"What?" Rush asks flatly.

"I'm not so sure that's a..." TJ begins.

"He's an Omega, TJ," Young's voice is soft and even. "He needs an Alpha and he's my responsibility."

"If you think I'm going to form a bond with you just because you have some sort of leader martyr complex-"

"Do you have any idea how painful this will be for you without an Alpha after having one before?!"

"Of course I bloody know! That's the whole bloody reason this was supposed to all stop once she'd-"

"Not to mention the danger you'd be in and the stress to the crew, now and from here on out! Rush, there are some Alphas and even Betas who can't control themselves around an Omega that's scenting and you are scenting HARD!"

"Oh that's it, is it? Had yourself a nice sniff and now you're finding it hard to control yourself? Well, isn't that just fucking perfect?!"

"Enough! Both of you!" TJ shouts, separating them with her arms. "Dr. Rush. Colonel Young has made several valid points." She curtails his protest with a sharp gesture. "That does not, however, mean that you have to commit to something like this, under duress."

"TJ," Young begins but she silences him with a mere glare.

"I will not stand here and let you claim him like some medieval lord just because you are in command here."

"Well, then, who do you suggest do it, TJ? It's not a big ship and someone is going to take him eventually. It might as well be someone who isn't going to hurt him."

"Not hurt me?" Rush snarls, leaping up from his stool finally.

TJ jerks back at both the gesture and the spike in scent that accompanied it. Young moves just as suddenly, slamming Rush up against one of the cabinets, rattling the contents. He keeps one arm braced above their heads and takes hold of Rush's shirts with the other. 

"You need this, Rush," He hisses, voice lower than either of the people in the room have ever heard it. 

"Colonel," TJ begins.

But Rush can feel his resolve crumbling. In the face of such a display of dominance, the muscles in his neck flex and bend. He can feel the way his head sways and tilts to the side, baring his neck to Young's panting lips. 

When teeth hit skin, they both hear and ignore TJ's shouted protest. Rush groans and Young moans, the two sounds joining in a discordant jumble of satisfaction. 

"Then do it," Rush spits, angry as a cat. "Just get it over and done with."

"You know it's not that simple, Rush," Young growls softly, lips at his ear. "You know what this means."

"It's not like I have much of a choice, do I?" He snaps.

"You DO have a choice-" TJ cuts in, but now it is Young's turn to silence her with a look. 

"If this is really something you want to do, meet me in my quarters," Young says finally, tearing himself away. 

Rush remains pressed against the cabinets, panting heavily. The scent of arousal and of heat burn in the air around them. 

Young all-but flees the room.

~*~

Two hours later, there is a tentative knock on Young's chamber door. 

When he opens it, he finds Nicholas Rush in a completely disheveled state, hair hanging tangled around his face, clothes rumpled and hanging at odd angles. "I've just come from a run-in with one of your airmen," He offers nastily before stepping inside. 

"Which one?" Young growls, catching him by the arm before he can make space between them. 

"Dunning," He replies, sounding less certain as Young's behavior becomes more steadfast and... Alpha. 

He turns Rush to sit on the edge of the sofa, petting and stroking his fingers through that long, soft hair. Rush smells divine now, his scent glands pumping freely into the air. After heat-death, he smells like a new omega again, like something young and unclaimed. It's intoxicating and Young has never been good at gauging his limits as far as weaknesses have been concerned. 

He sits on the table across from the sofa and kisses him, catching his fingers between his own in both hands when Rush raises them defensively. The kiss is as gentle as Young can manage it, which is hard considering the stimulation. When he breaks away from that sweet mouth, he lets his head tilt to the side, inhaling the scent glands in Rush's throat. 

"So we're really going to do this?" He rumbles, clutching Rush's hands harder.

"I don't want to do it with you," Rush seethes, still angry, at his own weakness and at Young's. "But it looks like I have no choice. There's no where on this ship that a person can spend an entire period alone." 

"I'm not going to hurt you, Rush," He says earnestly, slipping one hand free to clutch at the side of his face. Rush looks uncertain, and he inhales sharply, because he isn't the only one scenting in this small space.

"You left me to die," Rush murmurs, unable to put any force behind it, even though he wants to shout it, wants to snarl it.

"And I have spent every day regretting it since," Young swears, kissing him again. 

Rush pulls away, "You're just saying that."

"I care about you, Rush, as a member of my crew, and now, something even beyond that. Let me do this for you. I swear I'll do it right. I've... mistreated you in the past. And I'm sorry." He kisses him again and again, a series of light, fluttering things that steal at Rush's resolve and into his heart. "I promise you I won't hurt you. I'm sorry that I ever even have."

Finally, Rush caves, like a line of shore being swept out to sea. "All right," He all-but whimpers against Young's throat, drowning in his care and concern, his Alpha scent. "All right."

~*~


End file.
